


Let the Fog Envelop Me

by Puniyo



Series: Let Them Talk [2]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: But there is fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prostitution, Psychological Drama, Sequel, Unrequited Love, all sort of kinks, alternative universe, angst fest, crude language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puniyo/pseuds/Puniyo
Summary: ‘Some things in this world should be free.’‘There are,’ Yuzuru kisses Javier, vanilla on vodka lips, almost intoxicating, ‘soft lips.’A sequel toLet the Rain Fall





	Let the Fog Envelop Me

**Author's Note:**

> Dear all, thank you so much for the positive feedback on Rain so I decided to write a sequel to it. Since it became longer than I had expected, I divided into two parts so consider this as an interlude to their adventures. I promise I will finish this one. 
> 
> Disclaimer: this is a work of FICTION. Everything written here is a product of my imagination and does not reflect the people mentioned. It does not represent my own personal thoughts about this sensitive matter as well.

There is a moth circling the deceptive yellow LED, hitting over and over the glass shade of the lamppost. It must be an extremely hot surface but the moth keeps the same vicious fly pattern and has no intentions to stop.

Yuzuru thinks that it is probably the most stupid creature in the animal kingdom.

He and Javier are walking in opposite sides of the same street, with the same rhythm and pace. The street is a haven for night clubs and drunken white-collar insurance slaves who can barely hold on to their designer, leather briefcases. People with proper lives, Yuzuru laughs mockingly, who find solace in the promises of a stranger in the apex of intoxication. Just like the hand that suddenly grabs his shoulder.

Yuzuru turns around. His electric blue hair, together with the pink neon sign of the disco next door, makes him look even more uncannily magical. It is a man, polo shirt under a grey jacket, pants slightly too long and a dull wedding band. Client type four – exhausted by the wedlock and inside the closet with a key they had swallowed themselves. The clingy type. The needy type. The type that Javier would never be.

‘I’m sorry for this,’ the man looks at his surroundings and pulls out a paper from his pocket, ‘I’m supposed to be in this address an hour ago but I just can’t seem to find it. I know what this sounds like but– ’

Yuzuru coughs to disguise the chuckle that leaves his mouth, his cynicism teaching him a good lesson about humanity, or what is still left of it. ‘You’re in the wrong district. You should pay attention to the numbers here.’ He points to the correct digit and he notices how the man’s hands are shaking.

‘Oh right, I should have figured that out. So it’s three blocks away.’

‘A taxi will put you there in five minutes.’

‘Do you also need a ride? We could share the trip.’

Maybe he wasn’t so wrong about humanity. ‘I do need a ride. But I prefer to walk.’

He sees Javier approaching a red Porsche and a hand wave. He acknowledges it, crossing the street immediately not worrying whether the man has the ability to engage in public transportation etiquette. By the time he reaches the car, Javier is already stretching his legs on the back seat much to the dismay of the girl at the steering wheel.

‘We don’t even need a room. Here it’s perfect. Look at these,’ Javier pulls the safety belt for the middle passenger seat, ‘velvet. They wouldn’t hurt your lovely wrists.’

‘Leave my car immediately. I’m not interested.’ She looks at Javier from the rearview mirror.

‘Waiting for someone? I don’t mind another to join the circus. You could even divide the paycheck. Complimentary service on the house, I mean, under my pants.’

‘Sorry miss,’ Yuzuru pops up on her window, his elbows on the frame, ‘is the gentleman bothering you?’

_Did you already get it?_

_Since the second I got in. Piece of cake. Or pie._

_Shut up._

_Yes, Sir!_

‘I don’t need two street rats dirtying my car at this hour. You better leave or I’ll call the police.’

Javier quietly steps onto the pavement, closing the door a little stronger than he expected, the impact startling the girl who readies her phone.

‘Here, let me help you.’ Yuzuru snatches the device and dials a few numbers. ‘Call an ambulance. Their siren sounds much better. Like a live orchestra.’

‘You little–‘

‘Rat? Dog? How about a jellyfish? It suits me, doesn’t it?’ He points to his blue hair.

‘Whore.’ She dreadfully spits this word, as if it would contaminate her whole being just by saying it.

‘I am. A whore and so much more. But you,’ Yuzuru kisses her powder-brushed face and stealthy removes one of her pearl earrings, ‘you will never stop being a bitch.’

_So feisty Yuzuru, I think I’m getting hard._

_You can start looking for someone to console you._

_But I want you and that mouth of yours._

_Not your lucky day I’m afraid._

Javier pulls the younger man away, the two of them not sparing another glance at the Porsche. They quickly disappear in the darkness of the night, a victorious smirk on both their faces.

 

 

Supermarkets after midnight are playgrounds for creatures of the night. With no working staff members and only self-checkout counters, Yuzuru and Javier design their own racing course of their own personalized formula league, exchange a few price tags and pretend to be citizens of this world by reading the headlines of already outdated newspapers from yesterday. Yuzuru wraps himself in a grey cashmere shawl as he puts on the pearl earring, twirling in front of the mirror as Javier counts their (well-deserved) paycheck.

‘How much?’ The younger man dangles the tassels of the garment in a coy pose.

‘Seventy, eighty, ninety, eighty-nine.’ The notes slide through Javier’s fingers like confetti.

‘You’re getting rusty.’

‘Her wallet Yuzu, not my hands.’ He shoves the money on the inside pocket of his denim jacket except for one that he folds neatly and slips it discreetly on the waistband of Yuzuru’s underwear. ‘A tip for the Oscar winning performance.’

‘Where’s my statuette?’

‘There is section for dildos next door. I’ll ask them to make a 24k gold customized one for you.’

‘And the acceptance speech?’ Yuzuru takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes, faking a sobbing voice. ‘I would like to thank Brian for his continuous effort to remind me of my rents every month, the neighbor upstairs, gosh, who always reminds me of how sex is a sin and has already reserved me a ticket to hell with his demonic prayers. But most importantly, ladies and gentlemen, I wouldn’t be here today if not for one man.’ He uses the shawl to dry the inexistent tears. ‘Javier Fernández, for trying to get into my pants all the time. I truly admire your perseverance and this award is for you.’

‘Not a word about my ass polishing skills?’

‘I would be surprised if you had any.’ Yuzuru returns the shawl to its hanger, turning his back to Javier. It is then when he feels a pair of lips nudging on his exposed neck, right on a mole he had near the jaw, and teeth sinking into his skin like a vampire thirsty for blood. He hisses at the sudden contact and aims his elbow at Javier’s ribs.

‘What was that for?’ His fingertips can delineate the shape of the teeth, moist with saliva. He hates the tremor in his legs and the jumping pace of his heart just because of the simple proximity of their bodies.

‘You’re sweet Yuzuru. Even more than honey.’ Javier escapes the question and starts walking away. ‘C’mon, I need cigarettes. Proper ones. The shit Brian got me last week already took a few years of my life.’

Yuzuru follows him, his hand still massaging the bruised spot. _You’re too cruel Javi._

Although neither one has appetite for supper, they still grab a packet of individually wrapped slices of chocolate swiss rolls and oregano bread sticks. Javier also grabs a large bottle of vodka for ‘antiseptic’ purposes while Yuzuru insists on something less strong. The Spaniard teases Yuzuru for spending time on the condoms aisle and the younger man lectures him on the art of pleasure with safety.

‘Have you tried them all already?’

‘Do I look like a condom collector?’

‘You look like someone who is very sensitive.’ Javier lifts a small box with the labels ‘tropical fruits’ and ‘extra fun’ and he shakes it as if it was a candy box. He closes the distance between them again, crouching next to Yuzuru and he puffs on the nearly apparent hickey. ‘Wrong. I _know_ how sensitive you are.’

An old couple happens to pass by the aisle and the elderly lady, probably on her sixties, makes herself noticeable, her walking tempo like an extremely vagarous tap dance routine. Her husband, on the opposite, has an impressive stoic face.

‘Two young boys shouldn’t be sitting here touching… your parents must be embarrassed of such shameful act. Two boys.’

Yuzuru is the first one to stand up. He straightens his AC/DC T-shirt and forces his lips to curve up the most innocent smile he can possibly forge. He notices, though, a shift on Javier’s shoulder, a sudden weight that crashes into them and how his nails carve into the skin of his palm.

‘It would help if we had any, wouldn’t it?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Parents,’ Javier spats at her, his tone condescending and almost shaking with anger, ‘parents like you, fresh bread on Sunday mornings with filtered coffee, ironed white shirts and perfect gardens for the monthly contest for the best lawn. Parents, a woman who opens her legs and a man who shoots a rocket for ten seconds and nine months later, voilà, here I am.’

The old woman blushes deeply. ‘How dare you? I demand respect my young man! This is no place for you and for your friend over there to do business. Don’t think that I don’t know what you two are. If only our streets were safe again. Shame.’

‘What is it? The money or the sex? If you ask me nicely, I wouldn’t mind helping you. My friend and I are not really picky with who buys us a night.’ Javier winks at her, her face swollen and nostrils flared. He grabs Yuzuru by the arm and walks away, the spirits bottle almost slipping through his grasp. ‘And we guarantee we don’t charge extra for the blue pill.’

When they leave the supermarket, Javier laughs uncontrollably, clutching his stomach because of the muscles spams. Yuzuru wonders who the real Javier truly is.

 

 

The sound of the water filling the bathtub is almost therapeutic. A loud but contained moan escapes Yuzuru’s throat as he steps into the water, the bubbles bursting on his skin like thousands of feathery kisses. These turn blue almost immediately as the azure dye dissolves, restoring the darkness of his nightly hair that complemented the paleness of his lunar complexion. He closes his eyes for brief seconds, not allowing any thoughts to infiltrate his mind.

For brief seconds, he wasn’t the prostitute, the whore, the shameful abomination. He was no one. How good it felt to be nothing.

‘I hope that’s not your suicidal face.’ Javier’s bare feet are almost inaudible in the tiles of the floor.

‘Homicide and suicide. Don’t ruin my plan.’ Yuzuru opens his eyes and he is greeted by the Spaniard, nude, the bottle of vodka on his hand. He is even more handsome then he remembered, muscles defined and chiseled. His body is tanned, light almonds, and his semi-hard manhood pointing at the younger man, in its rosy blush. Yuzuru can’t help but stare, his cheeks heating with the steam of the bath and the lust that had started burning in his core.

‘How do you plan to kill me?’

‘Castration.’

‘Ouch.’ Javier sits on the berm of the tub and he empties the bottle in the water, the air of the bathroom suddenly filled with potent smell of alcohol and strawberries. ‘A spa for my favorite assassin.’ He enters the compacted space as well, both his and Yuzuru’s legs shifting and kicking each other. It is a small bathtub but it manages to accommodate to the both of them, even after a series of cursing expletives, at least a third of the water on the floor and an exhibition of contortionism, a mess of tangled limbs. They both face each other, a grin on Javier’s face and a rather frustrated sigh from Yuzuru.

‘I missed being so close to you Yuzu.’

‘I missed you when this apartment was still only mine.’

‘I worry too much about you to leave you alone.’

And there is silence again between them, between the distance of their bodies, and between the distance of their hearts. Yuzuru ignores the comment, doodling on the foam with his fingers, elated that his partner in crime has an infinitesimal percentage of his thoughts just for him but it aches like a splinter in his soul and it suffocates him like a knot around his neck.

‘What’s wrong? Not enough vodka? Want to get higher?’

‘Nothing.’ He blows a few bubbles in Javier’s direction.

‘Is it your sister? Did she send you another postcard?’

‘No.’ He keeps doodling but the older man grabs his hand and stops all movements. He interlaces their fingers, gently caressing each knuckle and the joins of his fingers.

‘Tell me. I deserve one last wish before my supposed murder.’

‘Are we really,’ Yuzuru stares at the ceiling, ‘shameful? To sell and be used by strangers, over and over again.’ The image of the old couple flashes through his mind and her disdainful disgust for them. ‘She looked at us as if we were lepers.’ He chuckles, apprehension and guilt settling in his obsidian irises.

‘We are not from this world Yuzuru.’

‘Finally admitting you’re an alien?’ The water is becoming colder and a shiver runs down his spine.

‘We belong to us, and only us. No one else.’

Yuzuru pulls back his hand, holding his knees tight to his chest, but he smiles and there is a lightness in his worries that lift like the strawberry veil of the tub. He breathes in, deeply, the alcohol and the scent of relief. ‘Where do aliens go after they die? Maybe I’ll reincarnate into a penis.’

‘You’re so greedy Yuzu. To reincarnate into this?’ Javier submerges both his hands and holds his manhood, rubbing it into a full erection. There are still bubbles around them and the fake blue that blurs the water but Yuzuru can imagine every single movement almost as if he was the one being touched.

Javier knows he can.

‘To feel pleasure whenever you want and without any warning beforehand. To have hands on you, lips tasting you. To be spoiled with holes, mouths, asses.’ His voice is higher, working himself to climax. Almost there but not yet. ‘Wet holes, dry holes, _yours_ too Yuzuru.’

‘Don’t add me to your stupid fantasies.’ _Tell me more Javi._

‘It would be so good to be inside of you Yuzu.’

‘Not for sale tonight.’

‘You’re really greedy and selfish.’

‘Only for you.’

‘Mean.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Javier stops all the caresses without pursuing further the race to the orgasm. Yuzuru notices how he opts for delayed gratification as he dangles the arms on the side of the bathtub, no more masturbation gamble to tease him. He also notices the serene smile on the Spaniard’s face, gentle, perhaps also frustrated (he ignores it), not pushing but yearning for a two-people play.

Yearning for his touch. Yuzuru shakes his head. Javier would never desire him.

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Inviting you for a prostate massage?’

‘ _This_ life.’ Yuzuru kicks him underwater but Javier grabs him by the ankle and he almost slips on the tub. ‘Let me go.’

‘Have I told you I find your curiosity to be very charming?’

‘You’re the son of the _that_ Fernández.’

‘Am I?’

‘The real estate tycoon. Even I know that.’

Javier lifts his leg even higher, resting it on his left side, pulling Yuzuru closer to him. ‘I’m flattered Yuzu that you’re really invested on me. Am I already blushing?’

‘The color doesn’t suit you.’

‘What suits me then? This–’ Javier brings Yuzuru’s foot to his face. He runs his tongue on the sole, on the delicate skin, bitter with soap but also faintly tasting of strawberry vodka. He smirks when a low grunt escapes the younger man’s lips. ‘Always so sensitive. Just like a virgin.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘You’re really right for this job.’ He bites Yuzuru’s toe, a kiss of feign apology immediately soothing the teeth marks. It’s a moan this time, surprised and unrestrained. ‘Always horny and easy to bruise.’

‘You’re drunk.’

Then so was he, drunk with the spilled alcohol bathing them, drunk with goosebumps on the trail of Javier’s lips, drunk with the fondling fingertips on his calf and ankle.

‘Let me be drunk.’ There is a pause before Javier plants another kiss on the toe, a line of thought rushing through his barely sober conscience before it dissipates. ‘It’s the thrill Yuzu. The joy to rebel against the system. I wouldn’t trade this for anything. I wouldn’t trade you for that corporate piece of shit.’

‘You’re really drunk.’

‘Let me drink more. Feed me more Yuzu. Let me drink from you.’ He releases the grip on the younger man’s leg.

‘I’m not your client.’

And yet he moves in agile, feline reflexes on the bathtub, leaning over to Javier, hands on his collarbones to support his own weight. He traces his lower lip with his tongue as he stares fervently at the hazelnut eyes, his own seduction game put to test. He sucks on the Spaniard’s right nipple, enthusiastically rapacious and hungry, his erection feeding on the same lewd sounds that escape Javier’s mouth. He bites hard, gnawing on the pink bud before he returns to his bashful posture and coy wink.

‘You fucking–‘ Javier massages the wounded patch of skin, the pain an incentive for his growing arousal. ‘If I were a client. I would demand a refund.’

‘If you were my client, I would let you punish me.’

‘Masochist.’

‘Shss… that’s the client’s confidentiality contract. If you want personalized requests, you have to pay.’

‘Some things in this world should be free.’

‘There are,’ Yuzuru kisses Javier, vanilla on vodka lips, almost intoxicating, ‘soft lips.’

‘You’re no fun.’ But he returns for one more kiss. And one more. And another. And more.

 

 

It’s morning again, early morning with dew on the tea stained window panes and an eerie silence not yet disturbed by commuting buses and cyclical traffic lights. It’s also Yuzuru again, his head resting on the thin memory foam mattress, but his body sits by the bed frame, solidly cold and rigid. He too is navigating in a dream, a re-enactment of the previous night of debauchery. A bachelor party for a young, handsome and extremely shy lawyer, comfortably living in his own closet of infinite layers. He dances, in an Armani suit, with Yuzuru, in his nakedness without a brand. He only dares to touch, nothing more, to confirm whether the firmness of another man feels real.

It’s surreal the sturdy bulk of the muscles on his core and the delicate silkiness of his inner thigh. Yuzuru guides the trembling but inquisitive hand to his buttocks and the lawyer slides it between the cheeks, gasping at the warmth. There is a howl of bliss from the two of them in unison. The cry of a man. The cry of a woman then.

_Yuzuru._

Yuzuru is jolted awake by the female voice in his dream calling his name. He looks around his own apartment but sees no one, not even a moth plastered on the broken light bulb on the ceiling, only a thick stash of notes tied in a black ribbon together with a magnolia. He drops his forehead onto the mattress again and runs a hand through his greasy hair. It’s glitter, silver sparkles and another of his transient paints. His thighs are tacky, sweat and semen he didn’t know if it was his, the lawyer’s, or even from someone else on the party.

Yuzuru takes a quick shower of hot water, scorching, to see if he could evaporate and be in the air, flying forever without ever returning. The mirror reflects his body, but it is not him at the same time. The Yuzuru in the mirror is beautiful, sculptured marble, perfect proportion of limbs and muscle. He touches the surface and the image there mimics his own movements, head to toes.

‘I can be beautiful, can’t I?’

The robust knocking on his door wakes him from the trance and the mirror is completely blurred. He fixes a towel around his waist, courtesy and modesty, expecting to see Javier and swearing he is not going to make him another duplicate key if he keeps forgetting them in someone else’s bed.

‘It’s too early for rent Brian.’ Yuzuru lets him in and leans against the closest wall.

‘Someone is looking for you.’ There is a thin sheet of impatience stamped on the cheeks of the older man.

‘I don’t accept deals in the morning, I have told you before.’

‘It’s a woman. She’s on the phone. No one ever call us from J.’

Yuzuru loses balance and almost slips. ‘From J.?’

‘Yes, and you better get it soon. I’m going to charge you more my beautiful boy.’

He quickly picks up the pair of jeans on the floor and a used T-shirt hanging on the chair next to his mini-fridge. It smells funny but he could care less. ‘No, you won’t.’ He curses himself when he can’t put on a simple pair of socks.

‘It’s an international number and this is not a call center.’ Brian is stern, the emerging grey hairs reinforcing the aura of authority that he even exudes in his casual stripped shirt and khaki pants.

‘You like me too much to do this.’

The older man chuckles and shakes his head. His eyes are ones of concern and he pats Yuzuru’s shoulders. ‘Will I ever say no to you?’

‘You’re the best pimp I ever had.’ And Yuzuru encircles his arms around him in a mock hug.

‘Don’t call me that. You and Javier have brought me more problems this year than Rippon did when he was here.’

‘Sorry, _daddy_.’

‘That’s it, I’m leaving.’ Brian raises both his hands, turning his back to Yuzuru. ‘Save your pervert mind for your patrons.’

The younger man has actually lapsed by the door and is already running down the stairs to the common hall. ‘But I like white hair, especially down _there_.’

The sequence of obscenities that follows echoes throughout the apartment.

 

 

‘Hello?’ Yuzuru’s throat is dry and words disintegrate there instantly.

‘Yuzuru?’

He would always recognize that voice, even through the outdated handset. His fingers play with the curled cord, creating streaks of noise between the seconds of their breathing.

‘Yuzuru? It’s that you? Why didn’t you call me? Are you still… angry about what happened?’

‘No. No.’ His hips are swaying and his whole body is rocking to the sides. ‘It’s good to hear your voice, Saya.’

‘I miss you. We miss you.’

‘I miss you too. All of you.’

‘Hikaru says he is keeping your Pooh-san safe until you come back.’

He clutches the handset even harder, almost crying at the name of his nephew. His sister, married and a child – the perfect family. It will always be perfect if he is not there.

‘I miss Hikaru. I–‘

‘Yuzuru,’ Saya cuts his speech, ‘come live with me. With us. You’re my little brother. I can’t leave you alone.’

‘I’m not alone.’

‘Won’t you think about it, Yuzuru? A family, all of us. Didn’t you say you always wanted to know what it felt like to have a family? I’m sorry Yuzuru, it was wrong of me to have reacted like that. But, we don’t have anyone else in this world Yuzu. You and me. Do you still remember?’

He hesitates before answering. ‘I do.’

 

 

It’s not yet nine in the morning but the commotion is already at full throttle. Washing machines and sheets with witnesses of their business to be laundered, sales representatives for the newest cosmetics on their suitcases and toys underneath the leather layer, and Javier who is surprised to see Yuzuru downstairs chatting merrily with a cup of homemade coffee. The scrambled eggs he had bought don’t seem as appealing as they should.

‘Congratulations Yuzuru!’

‘I knew you wouldn’t be here for long.’

‘What a liar! You’re the one who said we should lock him forever here so Brian can be in a good mood all the time.’

‘I didn’t say it like that!’

‘You won’t get into his pants either.’

Javier sits next to Yuzuru who is startled by his presence. ‘Who wants to kiss his balls?’

‘No one.’ Yuzuru drinks a sip of the coffee and fixes his gaze on the dark liquid. He bites his lower lip, visibly uncomfortable.

‘So, what are we celebrating?’ The Spaniard accepts the communal coffee that one of the tenants, the one who always wear bowties and has his hair on a ponytail, makes every morning.

‘Didn’t Yuzuru tell you? He is going to move to J.’

‘It’s not going to be the same without him anymore.’

‘Can you leave me all your condoms before you go?’

‘Buy your own man!’

Javier already feels a bitterness in his mouth even before drinking the coffee. He brushes away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of Yuzuru’s obsidian irises. A silver luster gleams on his fingertips, a remnant of glitter that resisted the earlier shower.

The world stops as Yuzuru finally looks at Javier. He can’t decipher what the hurt in his eyes mean.

‘So, you’re finally leaving Yuzu? Leaving this life. And leaving me.’

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...


End file.
